Paris: For some, miracles come with baseball

Sara Wilson, 7, steps to the plate with her dad, Darrin Wilson, during a Miracle League game at Coronado High. The league offers youths and adults with
physical or intellectual disabilities a chance to play ball. Earnie Grafton • U-T

Sara Wilson, 7, steps to the plate with her dad, Darrin Wilson, during a Miracle League game at Coronado High. The league offers youths and adults with
physical or intellectual disabilities a chance to play ball. Earnie Grafton • U-T

Engel is the Miracle League's Bud Selig, running this baseball organization for those dealt a challenging hand. While the players' disabilities are evident, ditto their unvarnished happiness when embracing the joy baseball brings.

So a kid needs help around the bases – big deal.

So a kid requires a little assistance swinging the bat – no problem.

So a kid isn't sure which hand the gloves rests – not an issue.

Spring Saturdays are for youth baseball, and it doesn't matter if a uniformed tyke has his sights on the pros or reaching first base via a wheelchair.

“I know every time I leave here I have a huge smile,'' said Jamie MacDonald, a designated buddy for Miracle League players.

The good news is MacDonald, and others, are busy. The Miracle League is busting at its baseball seams, an outfit which has more than 200 participants filling custom diamonds in Del Mar and Coronado.

The league has doubled since its 2005 inception, with more players and their parents signing on for what any kid seeks: a chance to play baseball with their pals.

All because Engel, and his wife, Suzie, watched a show about the Miracle League on HBO. Now on Saturdays, the Miracle League stands are SRO – standing room only.

But the Miracle League's impact isn't restricted to its gun-ho players. Each has a buddy, or volunteer, to help steer them around the field. Good luck deciding which party gets more from the game – the player or buddy.

“I don't think people realize what one short hour can do,'' said MacDonald, a Torrey Pines High sophomore. “At first the kids are a little nervous and then you see this great transformation. They come out of their shell and become a lot happier. It's amazing to see what a change it is.''

While offering a change-of-pace to their parents. They get a 60-minute, two-inning respite to cheer for offspring that otherwise might be overlooked.

“I don't know where the smiles are bigger,'' Engel said. “On the kids running the bases or the parents watching them. That really stuck with me.''

Often the player's game-day buddy sticks as a buddy in the game of life.

“I've had parents tell me that the buddy is the best thing that ever happened to their kid,'' Engel said.

It's a wonderful slice of baseball that arrives with popcorn, peanuts and perspective.

“We have a simple mission,'' said the tireless Engel. “It's that every participant, whether it's a player, buddy, coach, parent or volunteer, walks away saying they had a great day.''

Mission accomplished.

The quest continues to get more involved, and who can argue with that? To spread its reach the Miracle League has its lone fundraiser on April 20, a home run derby sponsored by Bank of America. Those looking to go deep secure pledges, knowing it goes to kids pledging their allegiance to all things baseball.

Former Padres Trevor Hoffman, Mark Sweeney and Mark Loretta have taken hacks to benefit the Miracle League.

“It's baseball at its purest form,'' said Loretta, a Miracle League board member. “The players are out there for the love of the game and to be with their buddies – just like it is with all kids. It is really a cool deal.''

And one to get Padres fans through the heat of a potentially disappointing summer. But instead of getting ticked, tickle your heart at a Miracle League game.

“We didn't have any concept of what this was going to be,'' Engel said. “It just magically came together.''